


And Life, and Tears, and Love

by spacebromance



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebromance/pseuds/spacebromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pavel is meant to be heard in Russian. Everything else is just a poor imitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Life, and Tears, and Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very short ficlet about the Russian language, so if you don't already speak Russian, I think you need some audible context. First, go listen to [Anton Yelchin speaking Russian.](http://spacebromance.tumblr.com/post/73539165011/anton-yelchin-speaking-russian-source) Second, go listen to a robot voice [pronounce 'Hikaru' with a Russian accent.](http://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D1%85%D0%B8%D0%BA%D0%B0%D1%80%D1%83) Just click the listen button in the lower right corner, beneath the Cyrillic.

They lie in bed together, afterward.

Pavel rests his head on Hikaru’s chest, right over his heart. Hikaru likes to think that Pavel already knows it belongs to him—that when he does this, Pavel is secretly listening for his heartbeat and inspecting it, like any dutiful owner, to make sure that Hikaru has kept it safe as he carries it around all day.

The small curls just above Pavel’s ears are damp with sweat and stuck against his skin. Hikaru brushes them back, then traces his fingers down the curvature of his skull to the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. It’s still an incredible miracle, to Hikaru, that Pavel is something he’s allowed to touch, that his soft, freckled skin is something he’s allowed to feel.

Hikaru sweeps his knuckles down the small ridges of Pavel’s spine, making Pavel shiver.

“Say something.”

Pavel laughs. Hikaru can feel it through his chest. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Because I never know what you’re thinking when you’re quiet.”

Pavel rolls so that he’s facing Hikaru. He folds his arms on Hikaru’s chest and rests his chin there, and he’s so open and unguarded in that moment, so young. Pavel looks up at Hikaru with the same soft expression he’s always worn—receptive but calmly unexpectant, like every kindness Hikaru bestows upon him is a gift that Pavel never even dared to _hope_ for—and it breaks Hikaru’s heart.

He threads both hands through Pavel’s hair to push the curls back from his forehead, and leans forward to press a tender kiss there.

“It is difficult to say in Standard, sometimes,” Pavel confesses, searching Hikaru’s face. “I am thinking: ‘ _I zhizn, i slezy, i lyubov.’_ ”

“What’s that mean?”

“Ah, so when I say ‘it’s difficult to say in Standard,’ what I really mean is ‘it’s simple to say in Standard,’ yes?” Pavel smiles crookedly up at him, and Hikaru laughs.  “It’s from a poem. It means many things.”

“What do the words mean?”

“Mmm. ‘ _And life, and tears, and love._ ’”

Hikaru’s heart squeezes inside his chest. “Is it a happy poem?”

“Sometimes.”

“Is it a happy poem right now?”

“Right now,” Pavel says, and he pauses, thinks. He unfolds his arms to press open-mouthed kisses against Hikaru’s collarbone. “It is many things. It is happy”—he kisses one side of Hikaru’s neck—“and sad”—then the other—“and, I think, real.” Pavel climbs Hikaru’s body and leans over him to kiss his mouth gently, tiredly.

Staring up at Pavel like this, trapped by his arms and the weight of him straddling his chest, Hikaru feels wide open. He feels how Pavel must feel, every time he looks at Hikaru with that unassuming openness. _I will take anything you give me, right now,_ Hikaru knows, _and I will be grateful just to have it._

Maybe Pavel reads it on his face.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Hikaru breathes. And Pavel does.

He whispers a long stream of Russian over Hikaru, like a poem or maybe a prayer. It’s incomprehensible to him, but it’s something that Pavel has given to him, and so it’s precious. Hikaru absorbs it all: the gentle cadence of his voice, the rise and fall, the way the words fall from Pavel’s mouth with such effortless ease, the way that Standard never does.

This is the way Pavel was meant to sound.

He can’t be unthankful, even when Pavel’s voice tightens with emotion, even when it trembles, because this is _Pavel_ —exposed, unfiltered, free. _This is the way Pavel was meant to sound._ Hikaru is grateful for every word.

Pavel’s lip shakes, and Hikaru reaches up and cradles one side of Pavel’s face, swiping his thumb against his cheek. Pavel holds that hand there, leaning into it.

“ _Khikaru._ ”

Hikaru pulls Pavel down, and they resettle together: Pavel pressed against Hikaru’s side, with one of Hikaru’s arms wrapped around his back and pulling him close. Pavel buries his nose against the skin just below Hikaru’s ear and breathes there. Hikaru can’t see Pavel’s face, but his breath still has that shaky quality that makes Hikaru want to wrap him up and hide him away from everything.

He pulls Pavel closer and presses another kiss to his forehead.

_And life, and tears, and love._

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [crimsongravedigger](http://crimsongravedigger.tumblr.com/), who requested: "Sulu loves listening to Chekov, especially when he’s speaking Russian." The quoted poem is Aleksandr Pushkin's _To... [Kern]_. It's a popular poem in Russian culture in (I imagine) much the same way that Robert Frost's _The Road Not Taken_ is a popular poem in American culture, which is to say that everyone can quote it but no one does so with any gravitas. But I am no expert on Russian literature and poetry, so it was the best I could come up with.
> 
> In case you didn't click the link offered at the beginning, "Khikaru" isn't a typo; it's a romanized version of the Cyrillic approximation of a transliterated Japanese name. (Mouthful, wow.) I wanted to emphasize that Pavel was speaking his name with a Russian accent, rather than his usual attempted-Standard pronunciation. Just--because I wanted that to happen.


End file.
